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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302056">Recalescent</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra'>LumosLyra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Begging, Brazen Pansy Parkinson, Challenge Response, Dirty Talk, F/M, Girl Knows What She Wants, Healer Pansy Parkinson, Hogwarts Professors, If You Squint - Freeform, Innuendo, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Post-War, Potions, Potions Master Severus Snape, Praise Kink, Staff Parties, Vaginal Sex, antidepressants, carriages, slight daddy kink, tight skirts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:22:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302056</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape’s desires had been fully ingrained in him at a small age. <i>Companionship. Safety. Home.</i> In the years following the war, two of the three had been rather easily obtained, but the third remained elusive until <i>she</i> came along with her tight skirts, haunted eyes, and wicked innuendos.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pansy Parkinson/Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Birthday Love!</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Recalescent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDogMom/gifts">TriDogMom</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This little bit of sizzling, pyritic smut is dedicated to the amazing TriDogMom on her birthday in the (terrible, awful) year 2020. Thank you for blessing our little slice of fandom with your uniqueness and a ridiculous amount of smut. I hope you enjoy! </p><p>Love, Lyra</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Severus Snape’s desires had been fully ingrained in him at a small age.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted a home where the cracks in the walls were sealed so the chill of the night air was properly warded off. He wanted his mother to run away and leave his father so he wouldn’t have to hear the sound of her screams. He wanted his father to die in a pub brawl after one too many drinks. He wanted to keep Lily Evans to himself because, after the love his deceased mother showed him, Lily was the only other person who seemed to demonstrate the capacity to love a poor underfed boy from Cokeworth and he was terrified that her love, even though platonic, would be snatched away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he grew, his desires continued to be far too profound for someone of his age—a group of friends who valued him, somewhere to belong where he didn’t feel out of place, a safe place to stay over the summer holidays—and maybe one or two things less profound like a kiss beneath the Quidditch stands and robes that were new. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even so, when he begged for Lily’s life and committed himself to a life-time of near-permanent occlumency shields as a spy between two of the greatest wizards to ever walk the earth, his desires never faltered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Companionship. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Safety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now, that he was a fully grown man, aged beyond his years, thanks to his espionage over two wars and too many years, he’d finally achieved two of the three. He had a home, a tidy estate on a rolling moor filled with wildflowers in the summer, and safety simply for the fact that both of his masters were long since dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Companionship, however, seemed to have eluded him and in its place was a profound desire to transfigure all of Pansy Parkinson’s tight skirts into something with layers upon layers of petticoats, lest his cock break free from his trousers of its own accord or crack in two because it was as hard as granite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t think she did it on purpose, as apart from Neville Longbottom he was the only male on staff under age 70, so perhaps she felt safe in her tight muggle dresses and close-fitting trousers, but he thought she had to realize exactly what her arse looked like in them because the way it moved beneath the tight fabric had to be practised. She seemed comfortable enough of them and it didn’t seem to hinder her duties as Healer-in-Training and Head of Slytherin House. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d come seven years after the war to train under Poppy Pomfrey and would be finishing up her three-year apprenticeship in just a few weeks. Trainee Parkinson was a valued member of their staff and apart from Herbologist Longbottom and Artihmancer Granger, who barged her way into his office far too often to debate magical theory, Pansy Parkinson was quite possibly the youngest staff member amongst them. While he knew her arms were blessedly free of the Dark Mark, her family had been included in the Dark Lord’s inner circles as deeply as the Malfoys or the Lestranges. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And while her painted lips were frequently curved into a winning smile, her haunted eyes mirrored his own. It was possibly that which drew him to her, beyond the tight skirts that made it uncomfortable to stand (and sit), because he knew what she had witnessed. He knew what she had been forced to endure. And while they became a little lighter each year he had known her, Pansy’s eyes were still troubled and Severus knew that was something that would never truly fade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even still, she was a bright spot in his day. She insisted on brewing the stores of basic healing potions down in his lab as there was more room to work and less disruption. She was quiet and thoughtful as she prepared the ingredients necessary for each potion or salve, but during periods where there was little to do, she would call one of the elves for tea and would always ensure that the elves brought enough biscuits to share and an extra cup for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In those quiet moments, with the cauldrons bubbling around them, she would prepare his tea as if she were a proper hostess at an afternoon luncheon and ask after his day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I half-expected to see a few of your second years this morning,” she would say, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she blew gently over her tea to cool it down, something she had remarked upon once that her mother would be appalled to witness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he would reply, “Blessedly, no one managed to injure themselves while brewing a simple </span>
  <em>
    <span>Strengthening Solution</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I hate to even think it, but this group seems less accident-prone than the fifth years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy would laugh and take a sip of her tea, her eyes alight as she said, “Ah, but Severus, fifteen and sixteen-year-olds are concerned with little else than learning how to brew </span>
  <em>
    <span>Weasley’s Bruise Removal</span>
  </em>
  <span> to hide the love bites they think we don’t see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he would immediately throw up a weak shield in his mind to keep his expression carefully neutral, leaving her innuendo hanging between them. He suspected Pansy knew exactly what he was doing, as he’d never met a more shrewd witch, but he rather enjoyed the game they played every week and it was only a mild retaliation for her propensity to wear tight skirts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The one she wore to the staff party on Samhain liked to have killed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a dark inky black that clung to her hips and dipped below her arse to wrap around her thighs and end just above her knee. There was a slit at the back that gave a flash of bare skin each time she moved and it was clear to him in that moment that she wore stockings, not tights. Tucked into the dark expanse covering her backside was a burnt-orange blouse that reminded him of an Egyptian sunset made of silk with a high collar and flowing sleeves that cuffed around her wrists. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was chatting amiably with Rolanda, a glass of mulled apple cider in her hand, the wisps of smoke rising from the top indicating the normally innocuous beverage was laced with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Recalescent Rum</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a dark, smoky spiced rum from the Caribbean that Severus had noted she preferred to the standard Firewhisky that usually made the rounds at these parties. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifted the glass of his own alcoholic beverage, neither rum nor whisky, to his lips and took a long slow pull as he tried to do anything other than watch how Trainee Parkinson’s arse shifted beneath the tight fabric of her skirt. If he watched, that would lead to his cock hardening to a point beyond his control and inviting all sorts of sordid images to flit and flicker through his mind about exactly what he wanted to do to that witch in </span>
  <em>
    <span>that skirt. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood from the chair in the corner of the room, discarding the crystal tumbler on a nearby sideboard, and left the staff room with the intent to find his way outside to a bit of fresh air. He made his way down the stairs, scowling a group of fourth-year Hufflepuffs he caught lingering on the stairs, causing them to scatter out of his way. The doors of the castle opened for him as he approached and Severus stepped outside into the cool night air, a bright harvest moon hanging overhead and casting shadows over the grounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned against one of the balustrades overlooking the grounds and tried to clear his mind, letting the cool breeze ruffle his dark hair and calm his nerves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you avoiding me, Severus?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of her voice, laced with expectation and with a teasing lilt coming from behind his left shoulder would have made him jump out of skin were it not for his twenty years experience playing spy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why, pray tell, would I have reason to do so, Miss Parkinson?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt her presence at his back and used the everpresent shields in his mind to keep his breathing steady when Pansy’s hand settled on his shoulder blade and trailed upward until to sit perfectly poised in the dip of his shoulder blade, as if it belonged there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small part of him wanted it to belong there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed, and he felt the warm press of the petite witch at his back, one of her arms—the one still holding the smoking beverage—wrapping around his waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen the way you watch me, Severus. I’m not as oblivious as Granger and Longbottom seem to be, doomed to forever dance around the other and I’ve decided, I’m tired of waiting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Severus grasped her wrist, his grip crushing the burnt-orange fabric beneath the curl of his fingers and tugged her arm away from his body. “You’re drunk.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the laugh left her throat, it reminded him of the laugh of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>woman</span>
  </em>
  <span>—something low and dangerous, the staccato of her honeyed-alto chuckle lighting pyritic flames at the base of his spine, not of some mere school girl which some small part of him still considered at nearly twenty years her senior. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I assure you, Severus Snape—” the sound of the ‘p’ popping on her lips, “—that I am the farthest thing from inebriated right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dropped her wrist as if it were blazing and rounded on her, robes swirling behind him. “Delusional, then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dark blue eyes, aged beyond their years peered up at him in the moonlight and she had the audacity to smirk. “Wrong again, Severus.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took a predatory step closer to him as if, for once, he were the prey, not the predator. Her hand once more found the expensive wool of his robes, painted fingernails brushing over the fabric as she lifted the glass with swirling smoke once more to her lips. It wasn’t until she swallowed, a pleased smile rising to her lips at the taste of her beverage that she spoke again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll give you a chance to taste my drink, if you like but you’ll find there is no alcohol present and while I rather enjoy the burn of my favorite rum, the alcohol in it counteracts the effects of the antidepressant I take and I rather like being happy. Don’t you, Severus?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t give him time to respond before her fingertips were trailing over his shoulder and brushing a lock of dark hair back from his face. “I pay quite the premium for the distiller to remove the alcohol, but leave the burn behind.” Her fingers tightened in his hair and she tugged him down, his face mere inches from hers. “So, when I say that I am in full possession of my faculties, I want you to completely recognize my veracity when I say that I would very much like to kiss you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bloody ridiculous witch,” he growled before closing the distance between them and crushing his lips against hers. Her painted fingers tugged at his hair as she slotted her body against his, the softness of her curves in direct contrast to the hard, lean muscle of his body, finely honed after years of ensuring his own survivability. His hands grasped her hips, fingers pressing dips into the soft flesh beneath the snug black fabric and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt</span>
  </em>
  <span> her moan into his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s tongue swiped against the seam of his lips and he opened his mouth hungrily to allow her entry. The taste of her mouth, like smoky rum and spiced apples, lit a flame at the base of his spine and his hands tugged at the silk tucked into her skirt so he could press his palms against her bare back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy gasped at the contact, the warmth of her back soothing the cold that had seeped into his hands from the frigid night air and he took that moment of surprise to take control. He kept one hand pressed against the dip of her lower back and wound the other one into her dark brown hair. He maneuvered her, forcing her lips to leave his with a practised tug so he could attach his lips to the side of her neck. The feel of her pulse fluttering beneath each careful swipe of his tongue as he left a mark, sucking and nibbling at her sensitive skin, only seemed to increase his need. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Severus,” she whimpered, her hand grasping for purchase at his shoulder as if he were her only tether to this world as the other held tightly onto her drink “We’re in the courtyard. We.. the students...we need—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed a blazing trail over her throat and up the line of her jaw, before pressing one last kiss against her painted lips. “This way,” was all he said before tucking Pansy into his side and leading them down the steps and across the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She kept up with his long strides as they rounded the side of the castle and walked the short distance to the carriage house. A wave of his hand over the lock and the ancient door opened to reveal hundreds of carriages used to ferry students to and from the Hogsmeade train station. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy laughed, discarding her glass on the sill of a dirty window as she eyed the tidy rows of carriages. “I’ve always wanted to fuck in one of those.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Severus turned on her, crowding her space and pressing her back against the wall. His dark hair curtained his eyes as he leaned over her, his lips mere inches from hers once more. “And who said anything about </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span>, my dear?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t cowed by him, nor did she appear the least bit intimidated as she cupped his face in her hands and met his intense gaze with one of her own. “I’ve been waiting two years for you to take the hint, Severus. I’ll be exceptionally cross with you if you don’t rip my clothing to shreds and make up for it with that massive cock I’ve seen tenting your trousers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Severus Snape was not a man who blushed, but Merlin be damned if he didn’t feel a distinct </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleased</span>
  </em>
  <span> heat creep up from his chest to cover his neck. His hands smacked down onto her hips and swept around to cup her backside, fingers pressing into the thick muscle of her arse. “Tell me, Pansy, if my fingers find the gusset of your knickers will they be soaked?” he asked, easing the snug fabric up her thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groaned, her head falling back against the wooden planks lining the wall of the carriage house. “No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” he questioned, leaning closer and trailing his tongue around the shell of her ear, his fingers still inching the torturous fabric over her hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her legs parted and he paused, the fabric of her skirt bunched around her waist, his hand resting on her bare hip. “I’m not wearing any.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naugty girl,” Severus crooned, his hand stroking the soft bare skin teasingly with the tips of his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very naughty,” she agreed, her back arching, forcing her abdomen and pelvis to connect with his body, a soft gasp at the feel of his cock straining against his trousers to press against her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps I should turn you over my knee for being so negligent of the staff dress code.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her perfect little turned-up nose wrinkled and she wedged a hand between them, her fingers curling around the outline of his cock. “You don’t get to spank me until you fuck me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can think of at least four ways to fuck you without ever slotting my cock in your cunt and making you see stars.” His fingers itched closer to her core, the tips of them just brushing the thatch of dark curls he knew would sit atop of her center. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her blue eyes fluttered open and she squeezed, palm sliding along the outline of his through his trousers, “You’re awfully confident.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His teeth captured the lobe of her ear and a low rumble caught in his throat. “I can abstain indefinitely, but you, on the other hand, might spontaneously combust before I decide to take my own pleasure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She moaned again, arching further against him. “Prove it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Severus chuckled, the tips of his fingers just brushing over soft, bare folds already slick with her arousal as he widened her legs with the press of the toe of his boot to her heel. “Tell me, little girl, who do you think of when you touch yourself? Whose name leaves your lips when you dip your own fingers into these pretty pink folds and find your own bliss?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He punctuated his question with the slip of a single finger between her folds, drawing upward through the slick center to circle her clit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh… oh fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The name, Pansy.” Severus nipped at the skin of her neck, his teeth leaving a little indentation just above the darkening bruise he’d left moments ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yours—” her breath hitched as his fingers circled her clit again, “Gods, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Severus</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The admission sent a pleased rumble through him, the confirmation of her desire only serving to increase his own and while he desperately wanted to rip his own clothing away from his skin and bury his cock within her, he refrained merely to prove his point. Waiting would be difficult given how long he’d craved the woman in his arms, but he would make certain she couldn’t stand on her own before he took care of himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He eased a second finger along the first before slowly, torturously pressing them into her recalescent center, every bit as searing and burning as the rum of which she tasted as he drank his fill of her. His lips brushed over her own brightly painted ones, teasing her as he languidly stroked her walls and listened to the noises and breathy sighs that fell from her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s one, little girl.” Severus brushed his thumb over her clit as his fingers curled within her and she squealed a string of expletives that made his lips curl into the slightest of smiles. “Just wait, pet. We’re only getting started, you’re not the only one who has waited two </span>
  <em>
    <span>bloody</span>
  </em>
  <span> years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he thought about it, which he absolutely wasn’t thinking about it at this particular moment in time, he would have recalled that when Trainee Parkinson began her training she wore robes. It wasn’t long after she started brewing in his lab that she also began wearing tight skirts and dropping innuendos here and there. Two years of thoughts of this witch blistering behind his eyelids. Two years of self-doubt and thinking himself nigh-on undesirable only to find that two years had been utterly wasted when he could’ve had the warm body of a sweet-smelling witch in his bed every night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She breathed hard, in and out through her open mouth as her legs trembled but the moment she found her end, it was as if her vocal folds ceased vibrating and she was silent in her ecstasy. He watched her, mesmerized by each flutter of her eyelids and curve of her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beautiful,” he told her on a whispered breath as he withdrew his fingers from her pulsing core to press them to her lips. He tugged her close with his other hand, pressing her against his body to hold her steady as he slipped his fingers between her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her tongue circled his fingers, the muscle cleaning her essence from each digit and he pressed them in just a bit further towards the back of her throat. “Number two, my dear. Would you let me fuck you here, Pansy? Would you take my cock down your throat until I stole your breath?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All she could do was nod until he pressed his fingers just a bit further, finding the point at which she would gag before pulling back, her tongue still moving over his fingers as if there were anything left of her slick to be found. He pulled his fingers from her mouth and pressed them against her lips as his hand skated over the bunch of fabric around her waist, a silent slicing hex on the tip of his tongue, and the black fabric fell away from her body to land on the floor of the carriage house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” she finally said when he removed his fingers from her lips. “I want to do that,” she begged. “Let me taste you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers brushed a wet trail of her own saliva over her cheek before his hands found their way beneath her blouse, lifting the delicate fabric up and over her head. “In time perhaps,” he said, a smirk rising to his lips. His hands quickly made work of her bra, leaving the younger witch standing in only a pair of dark stockings and heels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cast a warming charm around them, soothing her shivering body before enveloping her in his arms and bending forward to kiss her once again. It was sweet, something gentle, light, and life-giving.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a wave of his hand, the doors to a nearby carriage flew open and he picked her up, wrapping her womanly curves in a strong embrace and carrying her to the seat and gently depositing her. He ducked in, closing the door behind him to kneel on the floor at her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She watched him with curious eyes, her chest rising and falling with anticipatory breaths as he pressed his palms against her thighs and parted her legs as he held her gaze. With a flick of his wrist, a gentle ball of light filled the dark carriage, surrounding them in a soft glow akin to the flickering flame of candlelight and Severus saw for the first time how truly beautiful Pansy Parkinson was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasted little time and leaned forward, drawing his lips over her collarbone and slotting himself between her parted thighs, his hands skating over her waist to cup her breasts in his palms. She sighed, something sweet and new as if she were experiencing being worshipped for the first time and what began as something scorching simmered to a low, burning desire to explore each and every inch of her. He took his time, lips roaming over every curve of her from the dip of her waist to the mound of her breast, his tongue teasing the hardened bud of her nipple and gliding over her collarbone in his exploration. She was a warm, sweaty mess by the time the feel of his hot breath ghosted over the lips of her cunt—pretty, pink, and swollen with need.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers threaded through his hair and she nudged him forward, the tips of her nails digging into his scalp as she moaned his name at the first kiss of his lips to her sweet, slick folds. “Severus, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He parted her with his tongue, drawing a long stripe from her center to her clit before sinking two fingers into her core, forcing a hurried gasp from her lips, the anticipation from his languid explorations of her body having already left her on edge. He gave her no reprieve, as she tumbled over the edge in silence, her walls tightening around his moving fingers and his lips centered over her clit. The thick muscle of his tongue flattened over her clit as he pulled his fingers from within her, trailing them down until he found the tight ring beneath her cunt. He eased the tip of one finger inside of her and he pushed her over once again as his finger slowly slid in and out of her arse, his tongue never leaving her clit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was breathless and boneless on the seat of the carriage, evidence of her pleasure dripping down through the dark stubble lining his chin and onto the floor. He moved from the floor of the carriage, unfastening his trousers in the process before tucking the shaking, overstimulated witch into his side, and laying her head down on his chest. “Three and four, my dear. Do you know what that means?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy nodded and he brushed the sweat-slicked hair away from her face as he held her for a moment, allowing her time to catch her breath. Her small hand traced over his thigh and slipped into the opened placket of his trousers, fingers curling around his length through his cotton pants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave in to the sensation of her hand exploring what she could feel of him, hard and ready to be buried inside of her slick, swollen center, and almost missed the words that tumbled from her lips, a confession that only the flicking candlelight of the tiny ball of light hovering nearby could have elicited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve waited so long for this, Severus… for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifted his hips and eased his trousers and pants down his legs before pulling her to straddle his lap. Dark eyes met bright blue and his fingers wound into her hair, tugging her down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “No more wasted time, Pansy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No more wasted time,” she echoed, lips moving against his as one of her hands drifted down to stroke him, skin to skin, forcing a low moan from his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slotted him against her center and slowly sank down, the bliss of him filling her for the first time was something he would never forget. Her hands were braced against his shoulders, and Severus wrapped his arms around her before giving a tentative upward thrust and falling into the intensity of his pleasure with each subsequent stroke. He trailed open-mouthed kisses over her neck and chest, sinking his teeth in and marking her as if to say she was his and his alone, though he knew nothing of what might happen beyond their shared night together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Warmth surrounded him from the heat of her body to the burning of her core, and with each stroke of his cock within her, he moved closer to the flames that would sear him so brightly he would never be the same, closer to the inevitable bliss that awaited him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her walls tightened around him and her nails scratched at his shoulders through his shirt as Pansy tumbled once more over the edge, taking him with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flashes of her played behind his eyelids, always her and scorching in their intensity, and rope after rope of hot come flooded her already slick center, marking her as his own in some primal way that made his chest rumble in approval. She collapsed against his chest, breathing heavy and his arms drew around her, keeping her close as their breath slowly returned to their bodies and consciousness filtered back through the haze of post-coital bliss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat quietly in the carriage, the sounds of nature muffled through the walls of the carriage house and their breathing filled the still air, unwilling to be the first one to separate their joined bodies after years of wasted moments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Poppy is planning to retire,” Pansy said quietly, shifting on Severus’ lap in order to lay more comfortably against him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers stroked along the curve of her spine as gentle kisses were trailed over her hairline, trying to ignore the fact that she would likely be leaving in just a few weeks, destined for St. Mungos or a private hospital in the country. “She deserves it, I’m certain she would like more time with her grandchildren.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy nodded, “Minerva offered me the position—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stilled, waiting for the easy let down that this was a one-off, but it never came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—and I’ve accepted,” she said and Severus could almost feel the smile spread across her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t speak, instead choosing to capture her lips once more in a heated kiss, trying to convey that this wasn’t an end to something they had both been chasing, but a beginning—a journey which he was willing to take if it meant more nights of passionate kisses and recalescent pleasures with the woman currently situated so perfectly in his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps, companionship was within his reach after all. </span>
</p>
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